Reaching Greater Depths
by Aserenia
Summary: True strength lies is those willing to share their flaws.  When Rachel unintentionally discovers Santana's illusive emotional side, things turn sour.  But will the idea that Rachel now holds a secret that only the two girls are aware of bring them closer?
1. Perfect Chaos

Author's Note: Rachel Berry and Santana Lopez are my two of my favourite characters on 'Glee', far ahead of any others. This is mainly due to the complexity of each of the characters. I also love the contrast between the two – Rachel and her obvious imperfections and Santana who doesn't 'appear' to have any; openly optimistic Rachel and cryptic Santana. I had been reading many PezBerry fanfics prior to writing this one of my own, but always seemed to find myself growing tired of constant dialogue and yearning for more of a backstory, so, I decided to write my own. So, there is barely any dialogue in the first two chapters, but in future parts, there will be plenty, so don't fret, yeah? Anyway, enjoy (this is one of my first attempts at writing Fanfic, so, it may be a little off, but hey, I wanted to try my hand at it).

Story Disclaimer: [Obviously], I do not own or have any affiliation (other than being a devout viewer of the show) with the TV series 'Glee'.

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><p><strong>CHAPTER I: Perfect Chaos<strong>

It was a typical Sunday morning for Rachel Berry as, dressed in sweats with her hair tied back, she was well into her morning routine. Rachel took great pride in keeping herself fit and healthy, having both a rigorous exercise plan as well as keeping to a strict Vegan diet. A jog around her neighbourhood was just a part of that plan and something she did every morning without fail (though if it was raining out, she would stay in and put some miles in on her treadmill). Rachel was anything but lazy. She loved this time of morning, so quiet and peaceful, too early for most to venture out, still curled up in their warm beds, blissfully oblivious to the fact that a new day had dawned. With the exception of the occasional dog walker or fellow jogger, it was just her, alone, with none other than her own thoughts and feelings to keep her company.

Though she was always seen to be such a habitually meticulous and well organised person, her mind was in sheer contrast, constantly over-analysing things, cluttered and in just thorough chaos. She would never reveal that fact to anyone though, not even her parents, as she never desired to taint her perfectly intact repute of being unbelievably mature, regimented and wise for her sixteen years. It was very important to her to remain consistently in character as, in her mind, she treated her life in general as practice for her sole dream – to become a Broadway star – and that dream was far too important to her to live her life in vain. Every situation and obstacle in her life, she attacked head on, considering them all to be lessons learned, adding them to her performing repertoire as to guide and prepare her for her future on the stage.

Rachel was well aware that she didn't have the life that anyone would die to have, like, say, most would view the cheerleader's at her school, but she was true to herself and who she was, and she took pride in that. She understood that she was at the bottom of the popularity food chain. She had known that since the third grade when she'd dropped her glasses (she now wore contacts) and while looking for them in the grass, had been pushed into a puddle of mud by none other than Quinn Fabray, now the head-cheerleader at her school, while her sidekick Santana Lopez watched on, before the two linked arms and walked off, snickering, leaving Rachel to cry blindly in a pool of filth. It had been Brittany Pierce, the third of the musketeer trio, who picked up Rachel's glasses, placing them in her hand with a quick smile, before skipping off after her friends. Rachel had always liked Brittany, optimistic and compassionate yet unfortunately ill-gifted in the smarts department, though she had never been able to get to know the girl at all, as both Quinn and Santana never allowed her to get close enough without her being taunted or insulted, or worse, slushied.

As her sneakers pounded the pavement beneath her and beads of sweat formed on her forehead and neck, Rachel entered the cemetery, as was the path she usually took on her final leg back to her house. There was something about the cemetery that Rachel had always liked. She'd never really known what exactly it was, but she had a feeling that it might have a lot to do with the fact that it made her feel so alive and free, and that thought, that feeling, always comforted her when she had failed at something or had been bullied to a point where she could no longer keep it all bottled up inside. When she was younger, Rachel used to go to the cemetery a lot, not because she had anyone there to visit, but because she couldn't think of a better place for calm and peace, to lose herself in her thoughts, allow the tears to fall, and not need to fear others seeing her at so out of character. Over the years, Rachel had learned to keep her emotions in check, when it came to the everyday bullying she was put through at school. It became second nature to her to always make sure she had a change of clothes and a towel in her locker to clean herself up after a slushie-attack (this seemed to happen at least once a week, without fail), and, as for the tormenting at school, she learned to keep a straight-face not allowing the bullies to feel the accomplishment in having hurt her. Not allowing herself to feel anything for those responsible, helped her deal with it and move on. She knew that the main reason that the tyrants bullied, was due to discomfort or pain in their own lives and this somehow comforted her. She was not one to let things get to her – at least not so everyone could see. This is precisely why her mind was always so hectic. Though she refused to let anyone see the pain, it all dwelled within her soul, weighing heavily on her heart and mind.

Rachel slowed her pace to turn into the last lane of the cemetery, deciding against her usual route feeling too energised to head home just yet, when she noticed a young woman kneeling at a grave in the neighbouring line of gravestones. The woman wore a loose fitting shirt and jeans, and her raven-hair cascaded down her back and veiling her face. Just from the girl's body language, Rachel could tell that the woman was in pain and within her own body she felt the instant pressure as her own heart began to ache. Rachel had never lost anyone in her life, so she'd never known first-hand what it was like to lose someone she loved. She could only ever imagine, and it was one lesson in life she would never want to learn – she did not know how she would even begin to cope if she lost her _Savta_* or Pappy, or even more emotionally distressing, one of her fathers. As unusual as her family make-up was, Rachel was very close to her family and always had been. She spent most of her free time with her parents, baking with her _Aba_* or lying on the couch watching the news with her Dad. She was a very independent young woman, but just the thought of losing her parents and being left alone terrified her.

As Rachel got closer, the woman at the grave lifted her hand and tucked some of her dark hair behind her right ear. That's when Rachel realised that the woman before her was not some chance stranger. Rachel stopped short, ducking behind a nearby tree, suddenly very grateful for the cover it gave her. Rachel peeped out from behind the trunk; her eyebrows scrunched together wrinkling her forehead and her mouth agape, struck with confusion. There before her eyes, sat none other than Santana Lopez, an emotionally raw and broken image, the complete opposite of the intimidating and overly-confident Santana that had terrorized Rachel through her entire school years.

* * *

><p><span>End-Notes<span>_: _

_[Please understand that I do not speak, write or read any language other than English, so these translations are based solely on general Internet research, so if they are slightly incorrect, I apologise. I just wanted to add in and also explain some of the Hebrew and Spanish words/terms so as to have the story sound more realistic and also so as not to leave readers confused by their use.]_

_*__Savta –_ This is what Rachel calls her father's (Hiram) mother. 'Savta' means 'grandmother' in Hebrew.

*_Aba_ – This is what Rachel calls her Jewish father, Hiram. 'Aba' means 'dad/daddy/father' in Hebrew.


	2. Hidden History

Author's Note: I find it so much fun to delve into Santana's past. On the show, we barely know anything about her personal life, so I love the challenge and the freedom to write whatever comes to my mind. Be warned though, this story is about inner-thoughts and feelings more than anything, so Santana will definitely appear softer than she does on the show, as we discover all that lies beneath the surface. Also, a huge thank you to those who left comments/reviews. I love to hear what you all think and will try to reply to each and every one.

Disclaimer: I don't see why this has to be attached to every chapter, but so be it. I'm not going to bother with clever little comments, opting to repeat the original (like anyone cares to read them anyway)… So, [obviously], I do not own or have any affiliation (other than being a devout viewer of the show) with the TV series 'Glee'.

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><p><strong>CHAPTER II: Hidden History<strong>

Santana Lopez had spent every second Sunday morning since she was twelve years old, sitting before this gravestone. She'd sneak out of the house just before 6am, while her parent's slept or were at work, and walk the mile through her still and quiet neighbourhood from her house to the cemetery. As a young girl, she carried a handwritten letter to read when she got there, but as she grew older, she decided against written words, and just spoke them when she felt the need.

As far as she was aware, no-one knew of how she spent so many of her Sunday mornings. Those who had ever risked questioning her about it had been met with a defiant and simple statement saying that it was none of their business, followed by a threatening look in her eye, and, as was with most people when it came to Santana, no-one ever dared ask any further questions about the matter. The exception was her Mother, who seemed to be able to read Santana like a book, no matter how hard she tried to hide things, which frustrated the Latina to no end. This was the sole reason that Santana didn't really mind so much that her Mother, being an air hostess, was rarely at home (this distance had really upset her when she was young, but she'd grown used to it over the years). It was her Father that Santana knew she could open up to, but he too was often busy with his work at the local hospital, so most of the time, when Santana was home, she was either alone, or hanging out with Brittany in her room. She trusted her Father more than anyone because though he seemed to catch on to her mood easily enough, he respected Santana enough not to dig for answers, though still letting her know that he was never too far away, or too busy, if she wanted to talk about anything. She loved this about him.

One of the things that Santana prided herself in over so much else, was the fact that no-one knew anything even remotely personal about her. She loved that air of mystery and intrigue that it created for people, and the fact that she knew it frustrated them when they realised there would be no solution to the puzzle. Over the years she had built her walls up so high, that no-one could ever truly know or understand all of what she held within them. There was so much pain and fear within those solid walls, so many secrets, but she had managed to keep it all to herself for a very, very long time. All of this had played a great part in creating the cold-hearted, egotistical and all around spiteful badass that Santana was today. She had decided at a young age, that there was only ever one way to keep her secrets safe, and that was to make it so that everyone despised, if not feared her. She'd never allow herself to get emotionally close to anyone. However, when it was just her, completely alone, she would let down the walls briefly and allow herself to feel the wave of pain and anguish that flooded her.

Santana reached out and slowly traced the letters engraved into the stone, like she had done so many times prior. It was a harsh reminder of how final and concrete the situation was; how nothing she could ever do could change what had happened. A solitary tear escaped from her deep brown eye, and she let it fall, trailing its way down her cheek before it slipped from her chin and fell onto the base of the stone. When she was here, it was like the whole world around her just faded, and it was just her. She loved the freedom of being able to be purely herself, without having to hold up the demonic and heartless act that she had forever been playing at school.

Santana absent-mindedly brushed away some hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear. She then moved her fingers to her lips and kissed them, before placing them gently on the very top of the stone. She held them there for a moment, before drawing both hands close to her body, flattening them to her chest, over her heart. Santana tilted her head back and closed her eyes.

"_Te echo de, Hermana_*", she whispered into the air, finally allowing the flood gates to open and a rush of salty tears dampen her cheeks. "So, so much..."

-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Rachel, who was still concealed behind the tree, her tiny figure easily hidden by the trunk, watched on. Though she had detested Santana for years, for her endless and successful attempts at painfully humiliating her, she couldn't help but feel a wrench in her heart, as she watched the girl in such a fragile state. She tilted her head, briefly debating whether to approach the Latina, but quickly decided against the idea as she knew the wrath of Santana would definitely fall quickly and heavily upon her if she did. There was no doubt about that.

However, Rachel had never been one to ignore the suffering of another human being, no matter who they were or what they had done. It was just not in her to do. Her empathy was a double-edged sword, proving to be both an asset as well as a drawback over the years. She found herself at an impasse in this moment, unsure of what to do, a silent declaration of war raging between her head and heart. Rachel sighed, conflicted.

At that moment, she saw Santana pull herself up from the ground and stand for a brief moment in front of the stone, before turning to walk down the path in the opposite direction from where Rachel stood. Rachel watched her go, and when Santana disappeared behind the stone wall at the end of the pathway, she found herself moving toward the monument, curiosity her pull. When Rachel reached the stone, she read the inscription upon it, silently moving her lips with each word.

"Jesenia Paz Cristina Lopez.

May 22nd, 1988 – November, 4th 2006.

Beloved daughter and sister.

RIP."

It was then that a memory hit her. Rachel remembered a week, she must have been very near twelve years old, in Middle School, when she had gone through her first (and final) fortnight without having a Slushie thrown her way. Now that she thought about it, she realised that in that same fortnight she hadn't once seen Santana, and both Quinn and Brittany seemed strangely withdrawn and tense. She hadn't really thought much about it at the time though, as the trio were all back in typical form the week after (though Brittany, she remembered, seemed to be even more delicate than usual, never once leaving Santana's side), Rachel receiving two Slushies within the same day, apparently making up for the lost time.

It all made sense now. She never knew that Santana had had any siblings. Of course she didn't – why would she? Rachel knew nothing about Santana. Being an only child herself, Rachel didn't know anything about the ties and bonds between sisters, but she reasoned it to be a very strong one. She could only imagine the pain Santana had felt in losing such a big part of her life.

Rachel began walking down the path that Santana had not long trailed. Completely lost in her thoughts about Santana and her late sister, she was completely unaware of the deep brown, now almost black eyes that were watching her from behind the stone wall. As she passed, she barely had time to register the presence of someone else, before none other than Santana herself, hands on her hips and a look of absolute fury on her face, stepped out from behind the wall.

Santana screamed at her, the rage in her voice distinct but not a drop of any other emotion evident. "What do you think you're doing Berry!"

Rachel was terrified.

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><p><span>End-Notes<span>:

_[Please note that I do not speak, write or read any language other than English, so these translations are based solely on general Internet research, so if they are slightly incorrect, I apologise. I just wanted to add in and also explain some of the Hebrew and Spanish words/terms so as to have the story sound more realistic and also so as not to leave readers confused by their use.]_

*_Te echo de, Hermana_ – This phrase means 'I miss you, Sister', in Spanish.


	3. Clash & Fall

Author's Note: I have never really written much dialogue before, but, I tried, so I hope it's decent. I find that although both Rachel and Santana have such clearly different ways of speaking (Rachel's being painfully sophisticated and wordy, and Santana's being quite fleeting, cutting and full of slang) it's kind of hard to write. Oh, and just a warning, there is (and will be in future chapters) some cursing here, but it will never be too severe - I feel like Santana has to use profanity or it would be against her character.

Disclaimer: I do not own or have any affiliation (other than being a devout viewer of the show) with the TV series 'Glee'.

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><p><strong>Chapter III: Clash and Fall<strong>

Rachel took a step back, her traditional talkative persona failing her completely. She had frozen, and though her mouth was open and her jaw and lips frantically moving to try and find the words, she couldn't seem to form so much as a syllable.

Even in such a hostile situation, Rachel couldn't stop her thoughts, unable to help but notice that Santana, who had always endeavoured never to look her square in the eye, was now staring into both, a hole burning straight through her.

"Well…I asked you a simple question Dwarf. Answer me!" Santana roared. The Latina had never felt so self-conscious and mortified in her entire life, she felt so exposed, but, as was the way of Santana, her only defence was intense fury.

"I…I don't…I-I was just…" Rachel began, stuttering through her answer. She was truly startled and she knew that no matter what she said, it would be met with disdain. "I was just out for my jog w-when I saw you…I-I didn't mean to…I just…" Rachel paused.

"How much did you see, Berry?" A brief shimmer of fear flashed in Santana's eyes. It disappeared almost before it was there, but it didn't go unnoticed by Rachel.

Rachel lowered her head to avoid the brunettes threatening gaze. "I…I don't know…I just…you were crying and…"

Santana interrupted quickly. "Me? Crying?" Santana exhaled with a sharp satirical breath. Her demeanour unwavering, she continued glaring at Rachel. "Santana Lopez doesn't DO crying!" She jerked her head to the side as she said this, raising her brow.

Rachel, finally finding her strength, spoke rapidly, hoping to get in as much as she could before being interrupted again. "Santana…I'm afraid you can't deny something that I have witnessed to be true. What I saw was that you were unmistakably upset, and though I was shocked at how uncharacteristic it was of you, I'm wise enough to know that it is a side of you that you desire to keep buried. I can assure you, I am not going to go and shout it from the bleachers during the next football game. That is not who I am." Rachel let out a quick breath before taking in a deeper one.

For a brief moment, the two girls stood before each other. Santana thought about the fact that even though Rachel had sounded fearful at first, it was fleeting, and she no longer looked scared at all. Rather, the girl was standing up straight, meeting Santana's eyes with her own, obviously without any plans to be the first to drop the contact. This frustrated the Latina greatly, as though her inner-confidence had just been shot, Rachel's now seemed to be unbroken.

Suddenly, Santana felt defeated, and though she knew that what the girl was saying was true, Santana was in no way planning to show her that. Deepening her voice, her words slow and clear, Santana threatened. "I swear, if I hear that you've told anyone about this, you are dead. Understand me? Dead!"

Rachel sighed. "You know, you don't have to do this Santana. I know you're hurting and…" Rachel was cut off.

"YOU…" she forced her finger harshly into Rachel's collarbone, pushing her so hard as to make her need to take a step backward. "You, know nothing about me! Don't you DARE tell me what I do and don't need to do!" Santana didn't like where this conversation was travelling. She felt so exposed and that feeling she was not at all used to. "You know what, this isn't worth it, you're not worth it…I'm out. Just remember…" She paused for emphasis. "…DEAD!" Her jaw tightened with the last word, strengthening the meaning behind it. At that, Santana turned on her heel and stormed off, leaving Rachel with no choice but to stare after her.

The place within her that had felt sympathy for Santana just moments before had grown significantly, now weighing heavily on Rachel's heart and mind. She really didn't want to leave it like this, but she wasn't about to go after Santana either. She felt that she had said what she needed to say and for the moment, that's all that she could do.

Rachel had unintentionally stumbled upon something she understood that Santana had tried years to hide, but, though met with extreme hostility, Rachel had already decided that she was not going to ignore it.

_-o-o-o-o-o-o-_

Santana turned her key in the door and pushed it open, letting herself in, before closing and locking it behind her. Leaning back into the closed door, her breathing heavy, she slid down it, landing with a hard thud on the floor. With both of her parent's at work, Santana did not need to put on an act, and she was grateful for that.

Santana had sprinted home as soon as she was content enough with being entirely out of Rachel's line of sight. She couldn't believe that the one person she detested more than anyone else, now knew the one thing about her that no-one else did.

Santana threw her head back, hitting it against the wooden door, her eyes tightly squeezed shut. "Gahhhhh!" she shouted in frustration. _'How could I let this happen'_, she thought to herself. A tear fled from her eye, but she caught it quickly, wiping it away roughly from her cheek with the back of her hand.

Santana was scared, and though she would never admit the fact to a sole, she could feel the fear coursing through her body stabbing at her heart and poisoning her mind.

"What am I going to do now?" Santana whispered as she sighed, letting out a long breath. One thing she knew for sure was that she was more than ready to kill Rachel Berry, but, as the girl now carried her secret, what would happen if she pushed her too far.

"Fuck!" Santana cursed under her breath. The girl she had tormented her whole life, now had something against her.


	4. Headaches

Author's Note: Just a note, I am Australian, so I may slip up here and there and write something that doesn't fit with the American way, or spell something using Australian-English. Also, I'm not feeling the best right now, quite terrible infact, so my head wasn't exactly altogether into the story when I wrote this chapter (as well as chapter five) – I just thought I'd mention that, as I'm sure it shows…

Disclaimer: I do not own or have any affiliation (other than being a devout viewer of the show) with the TV series 'Glee'.

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><p><strong>CHAPTER IV: Headaches<strong>

That afternoon, as she sat in the kitchen with a large box of sheet-music spread out and smothering the bench-top in front of her and waiting on dinner in the oven, Rachel went over again, for what must have been the hundredth time that day, her surprisingly eventful morning. She just could not get the Latina out of her mind, no matter what she did. She had tried distracting herself, but it seemed that not even singing as loud as she could in the mirror to the Broadway tunes that she blasted into her ears was enough to block out the thoughts and feelings that now swam within her. Although Rachel was quite a kind-hearted person, she was also very self-centred, often too lost in thoughts about herself to really see what was going on right in front of her. Therefore, Rachel was not used to carrying someone else's pain, especially someone she had grown to detest, and now that she was, she was having a very difficult time concentrating on her daily activities. This was not like her at all. It was very unusual and the whole thing confused her immensely.

As Rachel put her chin in her hands, her elbows resting on the bench-top, she felt a slight twinge of pain in her upper-chest as she dropped her shoulders. Moving to stand up, she walked out into the hall, and stood before the mirror there and when she pulled down the neck of her shirt she saw where the pain had come from. A dark bruise had formed just below her collarbone, where Santana had pushed her in her rage that morning. She had known as soon as it had happened that it would leave a mark, as she bruised very easily, but, due to the emotional chaos throughout the day, she had neglected to notice any physical discomfort. Rachel lifted her hand, and gently dragged her fingers over the dark mark. She was used to bruises, as she had been tripped or pushed into a locker by a jock or cheerleader on numerous occasions. Due to this, she was not at all alarmed, but somehow, this bruise felt different. It wasn't a mark born from a bully's mindless boredom, she thought, but rather one that stemmed from the tortured soul of an extremely wounded young woman. Rachel stood for quite some time, just staring into the mirror.

Finally, she let the neck of her shirt go, and walked slowly back to the kitchen when she smelled something burning. Instantly, she remembered the lasagne she had been cooking and ran to the oven, lifting it out onto the stove-top. This was the first time that Rachel Berry and her flawless culinary skills had ruined anything. It was burnt and pretty much unsalvageable. She sighed, crushed, and tossed the oven-mit onto the bench behind her. It slid across the polished surface, and, taking some sheet-music with it, fell to the floor on the other side.

Rachel let out an extremely irritated groan, threw her hands up in the air, turned around and stormed out of the kitchen. She stomped up the stairs, slammed her bedroom door after her and fell heavily face first onto her bed.

This was just not her day.

_-o-o-o-o-o-_

Santana let the hot water run down her body, her bloodshot eyes staring at a spot on the shower wall in front of her. Santana hadn't gone out again all day, refusing to accept Brittany's invitation to go to her house and hang out, with the excuse that she had a super terrible migraine and that she was going to try and sleep it off, which, wasn't entirely a lie. Her head really was aching with all of the drama going on within it. Santana really didn't want to face anyone right now. She still felt so exposed, and she wasn't sure that she could muster enough strength to put on her customary cold, emotionless front.

Santana tilted her head backward and let the water wash over her face. In near every hostile situation she had ever been involved in she was always the first to come up with a plan of attack, but in the position she found herself in now, even after an entire day of thinking, over-thinking, and rethinking, she had failed to come up with anything even remotely close to an idea of how to go about handling it. Santana turned the faucets off and stepped out of the shower, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around her before heading out to her room to find some clothes.

'How could I have let this happen…?' She thought to herself. '…and how could I have let Rachel freakin' Berry work me up like this?' Santana sighed deeply. She had no idea what was going on within her. All of a sudden, the girl she had never even cared to think of twice was filling her head completely.

As Santana eventually dressed and lay down on her bed, she found herself exhausted. She had done very little all day, but her mind had been working in overdrive, and that was something she was definitely not used to. When she closed her eyes she almost instantly felt herself drifting off to sleep, when she found a pair of coffee-brown eyes staring back at her. Although at first, somewhat unconsciously, the image had really freaked her out, Santana soon calmed down, finding herself trying to look deeper into the vision her mind's-eye had created. Santana saw touches of distress, poise and grit, but the one thing that pulled her deeper and really messed with her, was a ribbon of warmth she had found in the singer's eyes.

Even in dreamy darkness, there was no hiding from that tiresome 'gold star'.


	5. Anxieties

Author's Note: One thing I adore about the way in which Santana's character is written on the show is her relationship with Brittany. Not so much the romantic one (though I honestly love where it's going too, of course) as the super-strong friendship that the two have going. It's just so…raw and unbreakable, and I love the idea of Santana having one person in which she can feel like she can be true to herself with. I wanted to add that into my story, so, I hope you all don't mind it.

Disclaimer: I do not own or have any affiliation (other than being a devout viewer of the show) with the TV series 'Glee'. 

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><p><strong>CHAPTER V: Anxieties<strong>

Santana got to school late the next morning, which though was not very unusual of her at all, this time she actually had good reason to be. She hated admitting to herself that she was trying to dodge Rachel, but just the thought of the girl looking at her with that knowing stare and that naturally optimistic bounce in her step, regardless of what had happened, really bothered her. Santana had found herself being nervous, one of the very few times she had ever felt that way in her life. Naturally though, she had on her best guise and wasn't going to let anyone see the uncertainty in her eyes.

"Hey San, wait up!" Someone called out from behind her, as she shut her locker and turned to walk down the hall. Santana smiled; she would know that cheerful little voice anywhere.

She swung around. "Hey Britt, what's up?" she asked the blonde bounding up to her with the biggest grin plastered across her face.

"I'm great, but are you ok? How's your grainy thing?" A look of deep concern came across Brittany's face.

Santana furrowed her eyebrows, momentarily confused. "W-wha…..ohhhh migraine… Yeah, it's fine now. I'm fine. Thanks Britt." Santana was used to Brittany's euphemisms and misinterpretations of things, having grown up with them almost her entire life. At first Santana had thought it was funny, as any five year old would have, but it wasn't long before they had become second nature to her. In fact, it was Brittany's oddities that had drawn Santana to her in the first place. The girl had been so unlike everyone else, being so non-judgemental, charming and funny yet very timid, and for some reason, Santana had felt like the blonde needed protection, and she was more than happy to give it. For years now, Santana was always the first to defend Brittany against anyone who dared even to allude negatively to her naïve eccentricities. Brittany was her best friend after all, and the only person that she had ever trusted enough to allow herself to bring down her walls for, though still, even with Brittany, it was rare. Though she was rather daft, Brittany was somehow so unbelievably sharp when it came to listening to Santana's qualms and giving good advice. That was precisely why Santana just couldn't help but open up to her a little more than usual on occasion.

"Oh, well great!" Brittany smiled and moved to slip her arm through Santana's before the two began walking down the hall. "I was worried. I didn't see you when I got here this morning and I thought you must have stayed home."

"No, I'm okay now, promise." Santana felt the need to change the subject. "How was your weekend?"

As Brittany went into a long and very detailed spiel about Lord Tubbington, her beloved cat, getting stuck in a tree, losing his appetite and the sheer anxiety of it all, Santana tuned out. Although she cared about Brittany a lot, she couldn't help but slip back into wondering what she was going to do when she inevitably found herself in Rachel's presence. She still hadn't worked it out.

"…so he's really not that good right now, I mean, he didn't even look up when I said goodbye to him this morning." A tear formed in Brittany's grey-blue eye. "Santana, he'll be okay, right?"

Upon hearing her name, Santana quickly turned to face Brittany, and seeing the tear in her eye, stopped walking and lifted her hand to wipe it away. "Oh, Britt-Britt. I'm sure he's gonna be just fine. He just had a rough weekend, but hey, that guy's a pretty tough. He'll be back to his usual self in no time." Santana smiled.

"Yeah…thanks San. You always know what to say to make me feel better." Brittany smiled softly, the spark slowly moving back into her eyes. She pulled Santana to her chest, hugging her.

Santana sighed. 'If only it were that easy with every situation', she thought, returning Brittany's embrace.

_-o-o-o-o-o-o-_

Now sitting in her third class of the day, Santana watched the door out of the corner of her eye. She had gotten to her class painfully early because it was the only class (other than Glee Club, of course) that she remembered she shared with Rachel, and she kind of wanted to sink into the back wall, hoping that Rachel would miss her completely. No such luck.

As Rachel came through the door, she instantly met Santana's gaze, slowing her pace significantly, having forgotten that she and the Latina in fact shared a class together. Suddenly unsure of what to do or where to go, Rachel froze in place, pushed to the side as the rest of her class filed in.

Before she knew it, the teacher had entered. "Miss Berry, please, take a seat" Mrs Andersen prompted gently, as she walked past Rachel.

It was then that Rachel realised that the only seat now available to her, was one in the back, on Santana's immediate left, beside the window. Of course it was – most people tried to avoid the cold, satanic Santana like the plague. She had no choice; cornered. Rachel moved forward, her eyes trained on the floor, before sitting down at the desk and rifling quickly through her book bag, finding the books and pens she needed and putting them onto her desk. She swallowed loudly, as she tried frantically to keep her heart from beating so fast.

Santana, chancing a glance sideways, found Rachel with her eyes squeezed closed, her lips almost pursed together seemingly trying to concentrate hard on her breathing. It was then that Santana felt something within her that she wasn't sure she'd ever felt before. An almost-smile pricked at the corner of her lip before she caught herself. Immediately looking down at the blank page of her notebook, she felt something deep within her warm slightly. She didn't know what it was, and it made her particularly uneasy, but it was definitely not a bad feeling. Was it?

Santana couldn't bring herself to look at Rachel at all through the remainder of the class, and it wasn't until the bell rang, bringing her quickly out of her thoughts, the she looked up. She instantly leant down next to her and picked up her bag from the floor, sitting it on her lap.

It was then that she noticed a small, folded piece of paper sitting on top of her notebook. She looked up, just catching the back of Rachel as she left the room. Santana picked up the paper and unfolded it, reading the short note, written in the neatest, old-fashioned cursive she'd ever seen. _"Santana, we need to talk. –R." _Santana sighed heavily. There was no way she was going to be able to get out of this one. In the back of her mind something told her too, that maybe, just maybe, she didn't want to.


	6. Snatch & Grab

Author's Note: Okay, so I've realised that I tend to get very detailed and descriptive in my writing (yeah, I guess I'm kind of a lot like Rachel in that way) and so I'm going to try to tone it down a little. The key word there being 'try' – I can't promise anything. What can I say, I'm a girl who notices and appreciates even the slightest of detail. Oh and please, review!

Disclaimer: I do not own or have any affiliation (other than being a devout viewer of the show) with the TV series 'Glee'. 

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><p><strong>CHAPTER VI: Snatch &amp; Grab<strong>

Rachel had left school to walk home that afternoon, trying her hardest not to look too obvious as she searched the recesses of the hallways for any sign of Santana before she left. Though she had been very hesitant to write the note she had left her earlier in the day, she just couldn't bear not to. The awkwardness of the entire situation was really getting to her, already. Rachel had hoped that Santana would stop her to have that talk before the day was out, but as she turned a corner now only 10 minutes away from home, she realised she wasn't going to.

Her day had gone surprisingly well really, if the entire Santana situation was to be ignored. She had managed to avoid being bullied the entire day, which was almost a record really. Rachel was planning to go home and take a nice long bath, hoping to release all of the tension that had built up inside her since the morning before.

Suddenly, from behind a tree, an arm reached out and grabbed Rachel by the wrist. It pulled her sideways with ease due to her tiny stature and the girl soon found herself upon the ground between a large tree and a fence, a set of deep brown eyes staring back at her. So, apparently, she was going to get to have that talk after all.

"When I said we should talk, I didn't expect to be kidnapped!" Rachel's words flew out of her mouth before she was even sure what they were. She had guessed who it was within a split second and was angered by the rough way in which she was being handled.

"Oh, shut up, Berry. You may be a dwarf but you're no kid. Don't be so dramatic." Santana's voice was strong, her words clear and even with an irritated undertone. She took a breath before continuing. "So, you said we needed to talk…" She raised her eyebrows and tilted her head sharply to the side with attitude.

Rachel was not going to let Santana have this one without a fight, after all, what did she have to lose? It was only she and Santana, so it was not like she could truly be humiliated. Besides, Rachel had something now that Santana didn't want her to have and she was beginning to revel in the fact that she finally had one up on the Latina. Rachel rolled her eyes and shook her head. "You know, this act, the 'I'm-tough-and-care-about-nothing' act…do you ever grow tired of it Santana?"

"It's no act Berry. I'm a pure badass, plain and simple."

"Ok, so tell me then, why are you here with me willing to talk when you could easily have just tormented the hell out of me until I left you alone? Just, doesn't seem too badass to me."

Santana faltered. Why wasn't Rachel afraid of her? Why wasn't she speechless and fumbling for words in her presence, like so many others before her had been? Why was Rachel so damn confident in what she was saying?

Rachel, taking the pause as an invitation to keep speaking went on. "Santana, up until yesterday, I just saw you as a demon with an icy soul. I guessed you had issues, every bully's battling with something, but I never bothered myself in questioning what they were. But now….now I understand why, and..."

With that comment, Santana instantly put up her defences. "You understand? You understand! No-one could _ever_ understand!" Santana screamed at Rachel, making the smaller girl shrink back a little into the trunk of the tree, startled by the manic outburst.

"No, I-I didn't mean…I just…I'm sorry, Santana." Rachel quickly recognised why what she said had hit Santana hard. "Of course I can't understand. There is no way I could understand what you went through…are going through. I just…"

"Save it Berry. I don't need your pity. In fact, I came to talk to you because of that. Barely anyone knows about my sister…" Just saying the word out loud sent daggers through her heart and soul and a lump to her throat as she battled against the threatening tears pricking at her eyes. "…I just, I don't want anyone's pathetic commiserations, including yours. So, can you please, yes, I'm asking nicely…can you please just forget what you saw?"

Rachel had never heard such desperation in the ex-cheerleader's voice. Santana's face had softened a little and it was then that Rachel felt a tiny piece of herself melt within. The threat was not like any the Latina had ever given her, barely even registering in her mind as a threat at all. Santana's eyes, no longer veiled in murky darkness, now bared slithers of fear, and anxiety.

"Santana, I refuse to forget what I saw..."

Santana's mouth moved to say something in protest, but she stalled when Rachel held up her hand to silence her.

"…but I promise you I never had any intention of sharing what I know of you now with anyone. I understand that it's not my secret to share. I respect that."

Santana swallowed the lump now growing larger within her throat.

Rachel moved to stand up, brushing down her skirt with her hands before she brought her bag around to her front. Fumbling through it, she pulled out something before bending down and reaching for Santana's hand. Taking her hand in hers, Rachel placed the card in the girl's palm, not yet drawing her own hand back from its position. Rachel looked up from their hands and stared Santana directly in the eye, their faces just a few inches apart. Santana lifted her head too, and couldn't help but stare straight back.

"Santana, you can do what you've always done, and go back to tormenting me, which is more than likely what you are going to do, but I still won't reveal your secret. Just know that, if you ever want to talk…" She dropped her eyes to their hands briefly and pushed her hand gently into Santana's, "…you know where to find me." With that, Rachel turned and ducked under a low branch, moving back out onto the path on which she was following just moments before.

Santana stared after her briefly before looking down and turning over the tiny white card that now lay in her hand. On the card was a gold star, placed dead centre, and underneath it, in an impeccable and classy script, the same that she recalled had been used on the note she had been left earlier that day, was a cell phone number.

Santana scoffed and shook her head. 'Oh my God, what a dork', she thought. She had to admit, even though the girl was such an incredible geek, she sure had gall. No-one had ever talked to Santana the was the Rachel had just done. Tapping the card against her thigh, Santana thought 'As if I'll ever use the number', before moving to push herself off the ground to stand up.

Santana took one last look at the card before slipping it into the back pocket of her jeans. She couldn't help the smile that crept upon her lips as she set off in the direction of her house.

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><p><em><span>Note<span>: Okay, so I have come to an impasse with the story and can't seem to work out where to go with it next, so, the next chapter might not be up for a while. So please, if you can comment in a review and tell me what things you like and don't like (I really don't mind criticisms, in fact, they would help me out a LOT to better my writing), that would be great. Please, REVIEW, as I'm afraid I won't have the desire to get back into this and I don't want that! Help!_


	7. Behind Closed Doors

Author's Note: Ok, so I had most of this chapter done last week, decided it was, well, shit to be honest and so got pissed off with it, ignoring it completely for days! Anyway, I decided that it might be just this part that had me stuck/uninterested, so thought I'd just post what I have and move on leaving the little jerk of a chapter behind (here's hoping that is the case). I'll try and get the next chapter up within the week.

Disclaimer: I do not own or have any affiliation (other than being a devout viewer of the show) with the TV series 'Glee'.

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><p><strong>CHAPTER VII: Behind Closed Doors<strong>

Moments after her conversation with Santana, Rachel walked into her bedroom and let herself fall on her bed. She lay there, staring up at the little gold stars plastered across the roof above her for a few seconds before closing her eyes. Though Rachel had a gift of being able to keep cool in any challenging situation, as soon as she was free from prying eyes, she was anything but calm and collected.

Had she just spoken openly and honestly to the biggest bitch at school, and got away with it completely unscathed? What….how? Rachel was going over and over the whole conversation in her head, and there were a few things that stood out more than anything else.

The first was when Santana had looked Rachel directly in the eye, pure anxiety evident in hers, when she had asked rather than demanded for her not to divulge her secret to anyone. Santana Lopez never looked anyone (other than Brittany) directly in the eye. Prior to yesterday, Rachel could not for the life of her remember a single time that the feisty Latina had met Rachel's eyes with her own. And then, there was that look of desperation and the ask rather than the tell, that had completely thrown Rachel. A nice Santana? How was that even possible?

Secondly, was the fact that when she had reached for Santana's hand, the girl hadn't pulled hers away, but rather, let Rachel keep hers resting there. Rachel would not usually have expected Santana to let her touch her at all, let alone practically hold her hand. Rachel smiled at the thought.

_-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-_

Santana had got home to her house, empty as per usual, and had found a note attached to the fridge. From her father, it had given his apologies for the fact that he wasn't going to be home for dinner that night as he had to work late at the hospital. Santana sighed. Though she was somewhat used to being on her own and loved the freedom that it gave her, sometimes she just wished that her Dad didn't have to work such long hours. Sometimes, she just would have loved someone to talk to.

Santana opened the fridge and stood staring at its contents, before closing it a few seconds later realising that she really didn't want anything from it in the first place. She walked into the lounge room and fell onto the couch, switching the TV on and flicking through channel after channel, not being able to decide on just one. Eventually she set it on a music channel and lay back on the couch, and closed her eyes. She couldn't help her mind go immediately to Rachel.

Although everything about Berry told Santana that she was a serious geek, she couldn't help but think about her confidence and compassion. Santana went over the terrible things that she had done to Rachel in the past years – name calling, slushie facials…why, she thought, would Rachel be so nice to a girl who had put her through so much pain and humiliation?

Santana moved her hand up to her face, brushing away a strand of hair from it. There were so many things going through her head and she really didn't know what to do with any of them.

Ok, so her fashion sense was beyond terrible, but as soon as Santana had seen past that, she had realised that Rachel looked kind of…beautiful. Those big brown eyes, filled with such warmth and the smile that seemed to make everything just that little bit better…the feel of her hand in hers. Santana shook her head at her thoughts. Though everything within herself was screaming at her to quit it with thinking about Rachel that way, she just couldn't, and she decided that, because she was alone, she really didn't need to.

Santana focused her thoughts on when Rachel had taken her hand. She didn't permit herself to feel it at the time, but that touch, that simple touch, had sent a rush through her body. She'd never felt such a thing before. Santana smiled at the memory.

_'I want to feel that again'_, she thought to herself. _'I really want to feel that again'_.


	8. Birthday Blues

Author's Note**:** Firstly, I am so sorry that this chapter has taken forever to appear, the only excuse I have is that I lost enthusiasm in writing, gave up and completely forgot about the story altogether. It's taken me a long time to get this chapter together - I'm a perfectionist, and OMGlee is that a hindrance when one beings to write! Anyway, this chapter I am far from happy with, but it's going to drive me crazy if I dwell on it anymore, so I decided to put it up and move on. Thanks for baring with me!

Disclaimer: I do not own or have any affiliation (other than being a devout viewer of the show) with the TV series 'Glee'.

**CHAPTER VIII: Birthday Blues**

Tick…tick…tick…  
>Santana sat in her last class of the day, watching the clock. Although she knew it to be the worst possible thing to do to pass the time, it was either the clock, or the back of Rachel's head, and she did <em>not<em> want to get caught staring at her, of all people. It had been two weeks since their conversation under the tree, though if it weren't for the memory of it, it would seem as though it had never even happened at all. Though no longer direct hits (which surprised herself), Santana had continued to use the crude and derogatory nicknames to refer to the singer in conversations with her friends and Rachel had just appeared to let the comments fall off her as per usual. As much as Santana wanted to avoid any attention from the girl (it was exactly what she had asked for), she could not help that feeling inside her that just wanted Rachel to approach her. Santana shook her head and closed her eyes tightly, trying to fight off that feeling, though she knew that she wouldn't be able to, due to trying it numerous times prior and failing miserably.  
>Santana woke from her daze when the bell rang, signalling the end of the day, the week. Though Friday afternoon should have brought on great excitement and planning for the weekend, Santana felt anything but enthusiastic. In fact, it was dread and depression that filled her. Tomorrow, Jesenia would have turned twenty-three and so Santana had declined all offers of parties going on, in favor of staying at home alone, being very sure that she could not keep up her attitude and all around pretense on such a significant day.<br>Santana got up from her desk and went to put her books back into her locker. She piled her books in and just as she was closing the door, Brittany appeared, leaning against the lockers on her left.  
>"Hey San. What are we doing this weekend...Puck's got this great party going on at his place, it sounds like it'll be a good time, and I could come stay at your-" Brittany began with such enthusiasm; a great smile plastered across her face!<br>"Actually Britt, I can't. I've got this...thing". Brittany's face fell and Santana felt terrible. "But I'll see you Sunday afternoon, yeah? We could...go see that movie you wanted to see?" Santana forced a smile. She hated disappointing her favourite blonde.  
>"Yes!" Brittany had linked her pinky with Santana's and the two were now walking toward the car park. "Okay, 'cause it really does look good. I mean, it's about this girl..." Santana tuned out, thoughts of her sister and Rachel flooding her mind once again. She really had no idea what she was going to do for the beginning of the weekend, but she knew she didn't want to spend it partying.<br>"Well, Mum's picking me up, so I've got to go, but I'll see you Sunday, San. Have fun with your, uh, thingy." Brittany said, before pulling Santana in for a quick hug and bouncing away.  
>Santana sighed. '<em>It'll be anything but fun<em>', she thought as she made her way toward her car.

-o-o-o-o-o-

Santana had not long stepped out of the shower that afternoon, when she heard her phone ringing. Guessing it to be one of her friends wondering where she was, she merely glanced at the screen, not intending to answer it, but, when she recognised her father's caller ID flash across it, she felt a smile spread across her face.  
>"Hey Dad! How are you? When are you com-"<br>"Hey. I don't have much time to talk, but I'm just calling to let you know that I'm heading out to New York tonight for a training conference so won't be home for a few days. Oh, and also, your mother called, and said she won't be home for at least another week."  
>Santana's smile dropped from her face immediately. "Oh..."<br>"There's some cash in the top drawer of my desk for food and anything else you might need. I'm not sure when I'll be back, but I'll call you when I'm leaving New York, okay?"  
>Santana sighed, closed her eyes and bit her lip as a wave of anger began to boil up within her. "Yeah, okay, I'll be fine." she said quickly forcing herself to leave any emotion from her voice.<br>"Okay, honey. I hope you have a great weekend, and stay out of trouble! Have fun, bye." The phone disconnected before she even had a chance to respond.  
>Have fun? Have FUN! The would-be twenty-third birthday of her late sister and she was told to have fun? Santana's blood was boiling. The phone still held to her ear, Santana's breathing started to get very quick and heavy as she bit harder on her lip, trying to contain the anger within her. The pressure just too much, her lip began to bleed as her teeth cut into it, but she didn't notice. Santana was furious. She was used to not having her parents around, but when such a significant day went ignored, Santana grew angry fast. All her parents ever cared about was work. They didn't care about her at all. In the last month, she hadn't seen her mother at all, and her father...well she'd seen him twice, briefly, before he had rushed out of the house and back to the hospital. Santana threw her phone across the room and stormed toward her father's study, taking the key from underneath one of the books on the bookshelf before heading down to the basement.<br>For Santana, it was never a difficult task to get her hands on some alcohol. Having discovered her father's hiding place for the key to the basement cellar years ago, Santana often found herself down there, sipping on this or that. Due to the sheer size of the cellar, Santana loved the idea that no matter how much she took, it always went unnoticed, and, with her parents away so often, she rarely needed to worry about anyone catching her down there.  
>Whether it had been fear, or pain, or anger or loneliness, Santana had turned to alcohol numerous times over the years. She found that it was the only thing that ever really helped to keep her calm in stressful situations, and though she did drink quite often, she knew how to control herself, and only drank until she felt she was relaxed enough to avoid the issue tormenting her in the first place. She knew it was only a brief moment of solace, but it was enough to give her the break she needed.<br>Santana descended the stairs and upon reaching the bottom she reached out and grabbed the very first bottle she came to, not caring what it was. She unscrewed the lid and tipped it up, the liquid burning her throat as she drank instantly recognising it to be vodka. She screwed up her face at the strength, shrugged and took the bottle with her as she climbed back up the stairs.


	9. Breaking Point

_Author's Note: I rather like the idea I had for this chapter, but I'm still not sold that I did it justice. My self-doubt will be the death of me, I'm sure. Anyway, I hope you enjoy… _

_Disclaimer: I do not own or have any affiliation (other than being a devout viewer of the show) with the TV series 'Glee'._

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><p><strong>CHAPTER IX: Breaking Point<strong>

Santana sat on the steps of the deck, overlooking the backyard pool, a half drained bottle of Vodka sitting on the step between her ankles as she dragged her finger lazily around the rim. Her head resting on the pillar beside her and cheeks stained with tears, Santana was staring blankly before her. With both her head and her left hand aching like crazy, she had mentally cursed the people who ever said that alcohol numbs pain because _'Obviously it fucking does not'_. She was anything but numb.

After coming up from the basement, Santana had wandered around the house aimlessly, sipping the alcohol quickly, and both loving and hating the burning it caused in her throat. With the intention to put on some very loud music, Santana wandered down the hall and into her father's office, but when her eyes fell on a portrait of a very happy looking couple hanging on the wall just inside the door, Santana forgot all about the music. There in the photo stood her mother and father, smiling happily, the blue of an ocean in the background. It was the only photo in the entire house that was displayed, that showed that someone actually lived there. The place was like a freaking show home really; the entire house felt cold and meaningless. Santana glared at the photo with her hands clenched in fists at her side. She knew exactly where and when that photo had been taken. Just over a year ago, her parents had announced that they were going on a cruise, so that they could spend some time together, without work interruptions. Santana remembered her enthusiasm as she was told this, and was instantly excited about the prospect of leaving school behind and spending some time on an expensive cruise-ship, relaxing in the sun over the Caribbean, that was, until she heard the next part of the news. They had told Santana that they needed to spend some time together, but alone. She wasn't going.

"We work all the time and rarely see each other, let alone spend time together", her mother had said.

"I want to get to know the woman I fell in love with again", said her father, grinning cheesily, while looking straight into his wife's eyes.

Santana hadn't said too much of anything at the time, giving some matter-of-fact 'I don't want to go on a stupid cruise anyway' line before heading off to her bedroom. Deep inside she felt her heart break into a million pieces and imagined them scattered all over the floor, with her parents jumping up and down on them, dancing together and laughing. They didn't care about her. All they were concerned about was work and each other. Why did they even have kids in the first place, if this is the life they wanted to lead? She hated them for leaving her alone. She hated them for neglecting her. She hated that no matter what they did, in no time, she would forgive them, because they were all she had. Why didn't they love her like that?

Before she'd even registered what she was doing, Santana had closed her eyes and raised her fist. She punched the photo in front of her hard, the glass in the frame shattering before the whole thing fell to the floor. Santana opened her eyes and stared at the broken frame lying at the base of the wall, her breathing harsh and heavy and her jaw locked, gritting her teeth together. With tears stinging at the backs of her eyelids, Santana turned and walked out onto the patio, where she sat down on the stairs. She could feel her hand aching, and the wetness of blood on it, but she hadn't cared to look at it. She took in another mouthful of alcohol before silent tears began running down her cheeks.

Santana was pulled from her daze when a bird flew through her line of vision. Following it with her eyes, she watched as the bird landed in the back corner of the yard. Seeing what it had landed upon, Santana stood up, wiped her cheek with the back of her hand (smearing her cheek with blood in the process) and began to move toward the back fence. She stumbled down the path until she reached the base of the tree and took in the very weathered and long forgotten tree house that perched in the branches there.

'_Hey, Santi, come up here. I want to show you something." An excited voice called from above her._

_Santana ran her eyes slowly up the trunk of the tree, before settling them on the door of the tree-house where the voice had come from. The tree-house had been finished months ago, but she still hadn't ventured up to see inside. Frowning, she ran her gaze back down the trunk looking at the pieces of wood nailed into it. "I can't." She said, tears pricking at her eyes. "I don't know how." She instantly heard a shuffling noise from above._

"_Yeah you..." The shuffling noise continued before there was a bang. "Ahh, oww...hang on", the voice called out. A few seconds later, fingers grasped the bottom of the door-frame, two deep brown eyes peering down, catching those of the seven-year-old Latina on the ground. "Hey, don't say that...you can do anything you want to do. Just try for me Santi, please? I really want you to see this."_

_Santana bit her lip and swallowed hard. Could she do this? It really was a long way up, and what if she fell? "But Jes...I...I" Santana stuttered._

"_Santi, you can do this! Look, I'm right here." The older girl reached her hand out as far as she could. "I won't let you fall, I promise."_

_Santana trusted her sister with her life, and she never could say no to her. Santana loved the way that Jesenia could read her mind, and knew what she was thinking, sometimes before even she herself had realised. The girls were very close and knew each other better than anyone else did, or ever could. They were inseparable and had never spent more than a day apart._

_Santana moved forward and reached up to hold onto the step, bringing her left foot up to step on another lower down. She swallowed again once more, closing her eyes tightly before pulling herself up. _

"_Come on Santi, just three more. You can do it." Santana could feel the confidence grow with every word of encouragement her sister called out, and before she knew it, she had reached the top. Jesenia took Santana's hand and met her eyes with her own once more. "See Santi...you really can do anything!" Jesenia said, before pulling Santi into her and hugging her tight. Santana smiled before pulling back and taking in her surroundings._

_The whole of the back wall of the tree-house was plastered with photos of the two girls and a string of fairy lights hung above them from the roof, lighting up the room with their soft glow. Santana stood still, frozen._

"_So, what do you think?" Jesenia said, watching Santana intently._

_Santana turned to face her sister, her mouth open in shock. "Jesi..it's...how...wh...it's so pretty." Santana's eyes lit up, as she smiled up at her sister._

"_It's all ours Santi...just you and me." _

_Jesenia smiled and took Santana's hand, leading her to sit down on the cushions in the far corner. Santana sat down and leaned into her sister, resting her head on her chest. Jesenia dropped her cheek onto the top of her sister's head, smiling into her hair. The two girls sat like this for quite a while._

"_Jes?" Santana asked, breaking the silence, raising her head and looking into her sister's eyes._

"_Yeah?"_

"_You are my bestest sister..." She looked down to the floor. "I don't want you to go away..."_

_Jesenia, reached out and lifted Santana's chin. "Hey, it's only for a few days. I have to go, for school, but then I'll come back, okay?" _

"_But...but I'll miss you too much." Santana said, as a tear left her eye and ran down her cheek._

"_Ohh Santi, it's okay." Jesenia ran her thumb across Santana's cheek, taking the tear with it. "That's why I made this wall...you can come up here whenever you miss me, and see all of our photos. And when I come back from camp, we can spend lots of time up here after school, and on weekends too."_

"_You promise you'll come back?" Santana asked._

"_Yes Santi, I promise. I'll always come back. You're stuck with me forever." Jesenia smiled and poked Santana gently on the tip of her nose._

_Santana giggled. "I love you Jesi" she said smiling._

"_I love you too little sister. Always and always."_

Santana sat at the bottom of the tree, her arms wrapped around herself, holding herself together. Her whole body was shaking uncontrollably; tears streaming down her face non-stop. She was broken, completely shattered.

So lost in her memory, Santana failed to hear the voice call out from across the yard. "Santana? I know I am probably the last person you wa... Santana!"


	10. Breakdown

Author's Note: This was one idea I had in mind for quite a while, and was excited to write. Enjoy. And please, if you have a moment, give it a review? I'd love to hear what you all think?

Disclaimer: I do not own or have any affiliation (other than being a devout viewer of the show) with the TV series 'Glee'.

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><p><strong>CHAPTER IX: Breakdown<strong>

When she had reached Santana's street on foot, Rachel had spent a good half an hour sitting under a tree on the opposite side of the street, staring at the letterbox. What was she going to say? How was Santana going to react?

Rachel had always had a brilliant memory, and, having held the birth date she had read from the gravestone in her mind since the day in the cemetery, she had decided soon after her discovery that with the anniversary of the date not too far off, she would not leave Santana alone for it. She imagined that such an important date would not go unnoticed by the girl, and that due to it being such a taboo subject, everyone would fail to realise just how emotionally significant the day would be to the Latina.

Rachel's heart and mind had debated as to whether she should go in, or turn around and leave before Santana saw her and all Hell broke loose, but, as much as Santana may have appeared heartless, Rachel had seen first-hand that she was not and so with that thought in mind, she had decided that she could not possibly make things any worse than they already were by seeing her. With nerves twisting painfully within her chest, Rachel had marched across the road and straight up to the front door. She raised her fist to knock, when she realised that the door was ajar.

"Santana? Are you home?" Rachel called through the gap in the door. Having seen Santana's car in the drive, and lights on in the upstairs windows, Rachel knew she must be, but still, she received no answer. Finding courage to do so, Rachel pushed the door open slowly, her eyes immediately landing on the pile of shattered glass at the end of the hall. Closing the door quietly behind her, Rachel ventured down the hall further, toward the glass. When she reached the pile, she saw drops of blood on the floor nearby. A feeling of great concern shot through her. "Santana? A-Are you okay?" Following the blood trail, Rachel moved through the kitchen, toward the back door. "Santana? She repeated again as she stepped out onto the deck. "I know I am probably the last person you wa-..." Rachel stopped when she caught sight of the girl, sitting under a tree in the backyard, her head down and wrapped up in her own arms, rocking slowly. Rachel's anxiety instantly grew tenfold. "Santana!" she called out again, now with distress evident in her voice as well as upon her face. Santana didn't move.

Not even thinking, or caring about the possible and likely negative response she would get at being at the house uninvited, or in seeing Santana in such a vulnerable state, Rachel moved quickly down the steps and across the yard toward the broken girl, slowing her pace when she got closer, not wanting to shock her. "Santana?" She tried again lowering herself to the ground slowly. Rachel reached out and placed her hand gently onto Santana's arm. "Hey…it's Rachel," she said softly before she felt the girl jump and pull her arm away at the touch.

Santana raised her head and Rachel saw a face she had never even imagined seeing on the Latina: eyes red and bloodshot, tears staining her face, and blood smeared down her left cheek. Santana just stared toward Rachel with glassy eyes, seemingly looking through her, rather than at her. When she didn't say anything, Rachel spoke.

"Santana…what happened?" Rachel asked, sitting back on her feet as she knelt in the grass.

Santana didn't say anything, but rather lowered her gaze to the ground, where the glass bottle lay empty, neglected in the grass to her side. She attempted to push herself up from the ground, forgetting all about her sore and swollen wrist. "Ahhhhhhhhh, fuck! FUCK!" Santana screamed out in obvious pain before falling to the ground again. She looked up to see Rachel before her, worry and fear written all over her face. "What the Hell are you doing here!" she yelled.

"I…I just wanted to make sure you were ok, with tomorrow's date, and well, you're not at all, are you?" Rachel reached out slowly in an attempt to help Santana to her feet, only to be pushed away roughly.

"Get off! I don' need your 'elp." Santana slurred angrily as she used her right hand to pick herself up from the ground.

"But, Santana…" Rachel began as she watched Santana stumble toward the house. "I can't leave you li-…"

"Jus' go! I'm fine. Jus'…leave!" Santana shouted over her shoulder as she staggered up the stairs and through the back door, slamming it behind her.

Rachel sighed, frowning, and pressed her lips together. She stood and waited a full ten minutes before moving up the stairs and back into the house. There was no way she was leaving Santana alone like this!

-o-o-o-o-o-

She was in Hell, she was sure of it. She felt like she was burning, her whole body aching, the painful stabs paying particular attention to both her head and her left hand. She struggled to open her eyes, and when she finally did so, she found the room spinning around her. She blinked, trying to adjust to the surroundings, and very slowly, the room came into focus. Instantly recognising the room to be her living room, Santana caught sight of the clock hanging above the fireplace: twenty past eleven. She scrunched her eyes shut tight, and moved to sit up on the couch.

Upon opening them again, she caught sight of a figure lying on the couch to her right. Though the face of the person was out of sight, obscured partly by the girl's arms and furthermore a cushion, Santana recognised who it was immediately. The pair of Mary Jane's lying neatly on the floor beside the couch was a dead give-away. '_Rachel freakin' Berry'_, she thought to herself, before becoming aware of a coolness against her ankle, she looked down to see a bag of peas lying on the floor, and frowned, staring at it. It wasn't long before the events from the earlier hours of the night came back to her. As if her body could read her mind, her wrist began aching. Dry blood appearing in blotches on her hand and forearm, Santana lifted it limply onto her lap. She tried to move her fingers and winced when she felt a stabbing pain shoot through one of them.

A voice pierced the silence. "It still hurts, huh?" Santana looked up to see Rachel, still lying on the couch, her head resting on the cushion and her usually bright eyes, filled with concern. "I imagine it would. I did what I could," she motioned to the bag of peas, "but you had passed out and I didn't want to invade your space more than I already had. I did check to see whether there was any glass in yo-…"

"Berry, I get it okay?" Santana scrunched her eyes together and raised her palm to her forehead. "Just…stop talking so much…you sound like you're on loudspeaker." She said in barely more than a whisper.

Santana heard a shuffle of movement and a few muffled footsteps before the couch to her left dipped slightly. She looked up and turned her head finding Rachel's eyes. The two girls' sat there for a moment in silence, and without thinking, Rachel reached out and pushed a stray strand of black hair from Santana's cheek. Santana swallowed hard her heart beating rapidly. Part of her had wanted to slap that (Man)hand away. '_Why didn't I?_" Santana thought to herself.

In a whispered voice, Rachel finally spoke. "You know, Santana, we should really clean you up. I hate to tell you this, but you look absolutely terrible." She held out her hand for Santana to take. "Let's go. I'll help."

Ignoring the strong desire to want to take it, Santana sighed, rolling her eyes. "Didn't I tell you to leave, like, ages ago? I am fine. I'll do it myself." She pushed herself up from the couch a little too fast, swaying on her feet.

Rachel moved to her feet like lightening, and held Santana by the arm, steadying her. "Yes, you did tell me before, but like then, again, I refuse to go anywhere."

Santana took in a sharp breath at the touch. "Berry…" she said in an exasperated sigh.

"Lopez…" Rachel mimicked, a smile now visible on her face.

"You're not going to take no for an answer, huh?" Santana said in what she meant to be an aggravated tone. Instead it came out slightly amused a smirk playing with the corner of her mouth.

"No, I am not" Rachel answered confidently. "Now move." She slid her hand down Santana's arm, the Latina shivering slightly as it glided over every inch of bare skin. Rachel took Santana's hand in her own. "Like I said, you look terrible, and we can't have that now, can we?"

Santana was feeling so many things at the time, but one feeling she was not all too familiar with. She was nervous, and thinking about it more, she realised that Rachel was the only person that had made her feel that in a very, very long time. She could feel the tightness in her chest, and the tension in her arm as Rachel touched her and like the time under the tree…as much as she knew she should push the girl away and force her out the door, she couldn't. She hated to admit it, but she wanted Rachel there. '_God, what is happening to me?_' she thought before allowing herself to be dragged into the kitchen.


	11. On The Mend

Author's Note: I know it has been a super long time since I updated this story, and I have no other excuse than that I've been lazy and completely uninspired. I'm going to try and post more now, though I can't promise anything. I hope you enjoy it. Please, review – it will definitely help spur me to write more. 

Disclaimer: I do not own or have any affiliation (other than being a devout viewer of the show) with the TV series 'Glee'.

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><p><strong>CHAPTER XI: On The Mend<strong>

Once in the kitchen, Santana instantly noticed the contents of her father's first aid kit lying atop the bench. She should have known that Rachel would be prepared ahead of time. She did wonder though, what exactly the girl planned to do, that she couldn't take care of herself. She was either okay, or it came down to a hospital visit, the latter of which she hoped was not necessary because the last thing she wanted to do was end up having to explain it to her father, who would no doubt be paged as soon as she gave her name. Interested as to Rachel's plans, Santana decided that she'd let it play out and see what happened. Why not, right?

Rachel turned to Santana, with but a single word on her lips. "Up," she said. Quirking her head to the side, Rachel motioned to the counter, an action to which Santana raised an eyebrow at curiously. Rachel's eyebrow quirked and she pouted her lips, her head tilting slightly to the side even further, a silent yet completely obvious attempt to make her point final.

Santana looked down at the floor attempting to hide the smirk playing at the corner of her mouth. She scoffed lightly, shaking her head as she placed her unharmed hand onto the counter and slid herself up onto it with ease, cradling her aching hand to her chest. She looked down to Rachel. "You sure are persistent, huh?"

"What can I say? I like to get what I want." Rachel stared into Santana's eyes with a determined look on her face and it was then that Santana suddenly realised that she had just done exactly what was asked of her without even the thought of fighting it. '_What the Hell?_'

Rachel moved in closer, settling between the Latina's knees. Santana swallowed hard and felt her heart pick up pace significantly. Rachel, her eyes still connected with the Latina's, continued to move forward, placing her hands on Santana's thighs, just below the hem of her skirt. Santana's breath hitched, her eyes instantly darting to stare somewhere over Rachel's shoulder, hoping to God that Rachel hadn't noticed.

Rachel drew back a little. "I'm so sorry. Did I hurt you?"

Santana smiled inwardly at the girl's naivety. "Uh, yeah a little…but it's okay. Let's just get on with it."

Rachel nodded and looked toward the arm that the Latina held to her chest. "Let's take a look at that."

Santana lowered her arm slowly before Rachel reached out and gently cradled it in her own.

"Ok, I'm going to try moving your fingers one by one okay. Let's hope they aren't broken."

Gently, as Santana watched on, Rachel dragged her own fingers lightly down the length of each of the bruised fingers. She then took each one between two of her own, and bent it slightly. The Latina flinched a little but Rachel kept on, figuring that if the Latina wasn't screaming at her to stop, it can't be hurting her too much.

Santana's heart was racing at the touch, and she bit her lip at the thoughts that were beginning to creep into her head. She closed her eyes enjoying the feeling of Rachel's fingers gently caressing her own.

Rachel then took to her hand with a sanitary wipe, cleaning away some of the blood while inspecting the incisions.

"Well," Santana jumped from her reverie as Rachel spoke, "Even though they look terrible, I don't think any are broken and the cuts don't look like they need stitches. So…that's good news at least." Rachel smiled up at Santana.

"Mhmm…yeah, g…great." Santana answered, painfully aware that Rachel's hands were again on her thighs. '_God…_' Santana thought to herself, '_…what is she DOING to me?_'

Santana dropped her gaze to the hands upon her thighs before looking back into Rachel's eyes. Rachel, as if realising the close proximity between the two of them for the first time, tore away from her, taking a few steps back. Santana instantly missed the warmth.

"I…I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…" Rachel began.

"It's ok. I mean…it…" Santana sighed, "It's ok." Santana didn't know what else to say. She wasn't used to these feelings. Usually she'd shoot off the first horrible nickname or crude insult that came to mind, but nothing came to her in this moment but the thought of Rachel's skin against hers and how good it felt. Rachel raised her eyes to meet Santana's again, obviously surprised by the girl's reaction evident in the way that her eyebrow quirked ever so slightly. She licked her lower lip and drew it into her mouth, grazing her teeth over it before letting it go again. Santana could have sworn she saw Rachel's eyes darken and suddenly it all got too much for her. She shook her head and looked down at her hand, stained purple and red with bruises and her clothes stained in blood.

"S..so, uh I'll just go and take a shower and clean myself up a little more I think." She slid herself off the counter and moved quickly toward the stairs. But, just as she reached the kitchen door, she stopped and turned slowly to face Rachel once more. "Uh, thanks Berry. I'll be ok now, so…" She trailed off.

"You're welcome Santana", Rachel smiled. Santana returned it before turning and heading once again for the stairs. As she was ascending them she heard Rachel call out from the kitchen. "Don't think you can get rid of me that easily though. I'm still staying, whether you like it or not."

Santana rolled her eyes with a smile. '_Of course she is_', she thought to herself. '_and for some Goddamn reason, I'm okay with that_.'


	12. Home is Where the Heart is

Author's Note: I might not be headed in the direction that most of you pictured, but this is where my imagination took me, so I just went with it. Enjoy. 

Disclaimer: I do not own or have any affiliation (other than being a devout viewer of the show) with the TV series 'Glee'.

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><p><strong>CHAPTER XII: Home is Where the Heart is<strong>

As Santana took her shower upstairs, Rachel had wandered around the downstairs, taking in her surroundings. This house was in complete contrast to her own home. To begin with, her house would fit in this one twice, but it wasn't the size that had surprised Rachel most. Instead, she thought about the fact that where there would have been photos of her and her fathers in her own home, there were framed certificates and diplomas here and where small trinkets kept from her childhood would have been placed around her living room there were expensive crystal vases. It was cold and meaningless…not what you'd call a real home at all.

Rachel glanced at the clock and realised it had been an hour since Santana had gone upstairs and so Rachel moved up the stairs quietly until she came to the top. She couldn't hear a sound and every door looked identical. She debated whether to return to the living room and continue to wait for Santana, but curiosity and anxiety got the better of her and so she decided it wouldn't hurt to just knock around until she found her. Rachel walked down the hall and raised her hand to knock on a door to her right. "Santana? Are you in there?" Rachel called quietly as she gently tapped her knuckles against the door. No answer. Rachel tried again, but still there was no response. Hesitating a little, Rachel took a hold of the handle, turned it slowly and pushed it open.

As the room slowly came into view, Rachel felt as though she was about to step into another world. Unlike the formal iciness of the downstairs area, this room had a personality, and a brilliantly warm and welcoming one at that. The room was unmistakably feminine. In the centre of it, underneath a large window was a small neatly made bed covered in a pink and white duvet and to her right was a desk, with a stack of books on one side, and notepapers and pens strewn across the other. But the thing that drew Rachel in the most was the wall to her left. In the space between the window and the wardrobe, covering the whole of the area from just below the roof and almost to the floor like wallpaper, was an assortment of photos. As Rachel walked over to get a better look at them, she suddenly realised where she was. Every one of the photos pictured two young Latina girls. She recognised the younger one as Santana and although Rachel could not recall ever having actually seeing Santana's sister, the resemblance between the two girl's appearances was uncanny. Rachel stared at the photos, lost in how happy Santana looked in them all. Rachel tried to remember the last time she had seen the Latina really smile, but she could not for the life of her recall. The Santana Lopez Rachel knew rarely smiled, unless it was a menacing sneer or a wicked snigger, followed by some poor soul covered in coloured crushed ice.

Suddenly a voice screamed out from behind her. "Get out! Now!" Rachel jumped and turned quickly just in time to catch Santana out of the corner of her eye before being grabbed roughly by the arm and dragged her out of the room. When the girls were out in the hall Santana shoved Rachel against the wall on the opposite side of the hall. "How dare you! What the fuck do you think you are doing?" she screamed in Rachel's face.

Rachel was struggling to find her feet after such a shock, her heart beating a million miles a second. The fire in Santana's eyes was dangerous, Rachel could see that, but she was determined not to let the girl scare her. After what she had seen in Jesenia's room, in those photos, it had proved what Rachel had believed all along…that this whole bitch act Santana had going on was Santana's way of protecting herself from all of the emotion and pain that was writhing within the girl after losing her beloved sister. She was sticking to her original idea - tonight of all nights, she was not going to leave the girl alone.

"I…I was…you were gone a while and I thought I better check on…" Rachel began, before being interrupted.

"Check! I told you Berry. I am fine. FINE! So get the Hell out of my house and never come back!"

She should have been scared, terrified, but Rachel couldn't see past the fact that this girl before her was broken and in a lot of pain…and needed help. "No…I'm not goi-." Rachel said bravely but before she could finish, she felt a blow to the side of her face - her eyes instantly watering as pain lashed through the right side of her face. She raised her hand to cover her cheek and looked up to the Latina with tear filled eyes. The girl stood there with wide eyes and Rachel saw her swallow a lump in her throat.

"I said get out! Leave! I don't want you here!" Santana's voice was still threatening, but a little weaker this time. Santana pointed toward the stairs strengthening her point.

Rachel drew in a deep breath and sighed. "Santana…I'm not leaving you by yourself today. I can't and I won't. I shouldn't have gone into that room, I was just looking for you, I didn't know it was… I'm sorry. But I'm not going to leave you alone right now. You can't be alone…not today." Rachel didn't know where the words were coming from after two lots of shock to her system in less than two minutes, but nevertheless, the words flowed from her lips freely. If she had not been quick enough to catch it, Rachel would have missed the tear that seeped from the corner of Santana's eye before it was rapidly brushed away, in the pretence that the only motive for the move was to brush away some damp hair that was plastered to her forehead.

Santana had frozen, firstly because she had not meant to hit the girl and was shocked that she had, and secondly because she had not expected Rachel to be so strong and courteous after such an aggressive confrontation.

As the Latina had yet to say anything in response, Rachel continued. "I'm going to go downstairs and see if I can make us something to eat. Like it or not, I'm staying Santana, no matter how much you scream at me. I won't give up on this...on you." Rachel turned and moved toward the stairs, leaving Santana standing in the middle of the hall, completely confused and in shock.


	13. Something About Berry

Author's Note: I realised that I have the most fun writing flashbacks, so that's where I went with the chapter. Also, some readers had asked for longer chapters in their reviews, and as I had a little more time than usual, I decided I would grant you that wish. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own or have any affiliation (other than being a devout viewer of the show) with the TV series 'Glee'.

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><p><strong>CHAPTER 13: SOMETHING ABOUT BERRY<strong>

Sprawled out in the middle of her bedroom floor on her back, her knees raised and her arms out to the sides, Santana lay looking up at the square of night sky that hovered above her. Although she was aware that she looked like a freak in doing so, she couldn't help the fact that lying like this looking up through the skylight seemed to help her whenever she had something on her mind, and right now, she had a lot to think about. "_It's simply a matter of perspective…and so beautiful_", came a voice from within; a memory that Santana couldn't help but smile at as she recalled it…

_Her first week of being on the Cheerios and Santana was already beginning to feel the full effect of what it meant to be on top. After two hours of absolute Hell with one Sue Sylvester, Santana was the sorest she could ever remember being. She felt as though she'd run a marathon, and she had, quite literally, along with various other exercises that tested her fitness, and as she was quick to find out, her patience too. All she wanted to do now was to get home, take a long, hot shower and fall into bed._

"_Hey Santana, you need a ride?" Quinn asked as she walked past her on her way to her mother's car. _

_Brittany jogged down the path and stopped at Quinn's side. "Mrs. Fabray is dropping me at home on their way…she could drop you too!" She smiled, her green eyes lighting up, as they always did when she spoke._

"_Thanks, but I've already got a ride." Santana said as she flicked one of the keys on her cell illuminating the display to check the clock for the third time in less than a minute. "My Dad won't be long."_

"_Oh, great. Well, see you Monday Santana." Quinn smiled and walked to her mother's car._

_Brittany dove into Santana's arms and squeezed her tight. When she pulled back, Santana couldn't help but smile widely. This girl just went through Hell, just like she herself had, and yet her spirits were just as high as they were every other day! "Have a good night San. Maybe we could do something tomorrow night? I've got movies and my Mum bought this popcorn stuff the other day and…" Santana laughed. Brittany stopped, the smile falling from her face. "I'm doing it again, huh?" Brittany let go of Santana and looked down to the pavement._

_Santana took Brittany's hand as she stood up to meet her. So many parts of Brittany reminded her of her late sister, and she couldn't help but love and protect the girl. "Yeah, you are, but it's ok B. So you talk fast when you're happy - there's nothing wrong with that. Yeah, we should totally do something tomorrow night."_

_Brittany looked up and smiled. "Thanks San. I'll call you tomorrow!" Brittany pulled the Latina into her for another quick hug before bending to pick up her bag._

"_Goodnight Britt." Santana called as she watched Brittany bounce off to the car. She watched until the car was out of sight, and soon realised that she was the only one left, sitting on the stone wall out front of McKinley staring at her phone. He was late. _

_Five minutes passed, fifteen minutes passed and still she waited. It wasn't until half an hour later that her cell buzzed, her father, informing her in a text message that he had been called into the hospital, that he was very sorry, but she would have to make her own way home. Santana sighed, disappointed. Anger boiled up within her, but she tried her best to push it back down again. Even though she had half expected this to be the case, she had still had just that little touch of hope that she was wrong. It seemed that as much as she adored her father, the distance between them was growing wider and wider, and she knew now that she had to start telling herself that she needed to stop putting her trust in such an unreliable person, and accept that it was just her against the world now._

_Santana picked up her bag, slung it over her shoulder and walked slowly back through the school. Her house was on the other side of the football field, and though it was only a twenty minute walk, she knew now that it was going to feel like an hour this evening. She was drained, physically, and now mentally and emotionally as well, but still, she just wanted to get home and sleep it all off._

_As she walked down the path toward the fields, Santana could hear a faint voice singing, but couldn't recognise the voice, or the song. Intrigued, she moved to climb up the bleachers overlooking the field to get a better look, and it wasn't until she'd reached the middle and the singing had grown louder and she heard the tune clearly. She stopped in her tracks. That song…she knew that song, but she hadn't heard it in years. She turned around and stared out onto the field. A tiny spot lay on the grass in the middle of one of the fields. Santana couldn't see who it was as her vision had become somewhat blurry. That song. Suddenly her knees felt impossibly weak and so she sat down. A single tear slid down her cheek. Four years ago, she had fallen asleep to the same tune sung as a lullaby. It was only five hours after that moment that she had been awoken to be told that the singer of her song was gone, never to return. _

_Santana stared out into the distance and thought back to the days she had drifted off to sleep listening to Jesenia's voice. Her big sister had sung the same song to her every single night, calming her and putting her at peace…after her death, it had taken Santana many months to get herself to sleep without it._

_Unbeknownst to Santana, half an hour had gone by before the clarity of her vision began to return. She had zoned out completely and it wasn't until she blinked and shook her head that she realised that the girl who was singing was still lying on the field before her, only this time, she was silent, her knees raised and swinging side to side. She recognised the girl immediately._

_Aggravated over having been forced to relive a very painful memory, Santana stood up quickly and marched herself over to the girl. Standing with her hands on her hips, Santana spoke. "What are you doing Yentl? Calling for the Martians to come and take you back to your home planet?"_

_Rachel opened her left eye casually before closing it again. "Hello to you too, Santana. I was wondering if or when you would join me." _

_Santana stared down at Rachel, tilted her head and raised an eyebrow as she attempted to make sense of what the girl had just said. Rachel moved to sit up, crossed her legs and was looking up at the Latina._

"_No need to look so confused. I saw you, Santana, on the bleachers. You looked upset, and rather than approach you, because, well, I value my life, I thought I'd just hang around just in case you wanted to talk or something."_

_Santana scoffed. "Talk? To you? Yeah, dream on." Santana said before she rolled her eyes and turned to walk away._

"_Stop being so stubborn for once will you? You came over here for a reason Santana, so please…stay." Rachel said gently. _

_Santana stopped and sighed heavily. "The only reason I came over here was to tell you that you look like a complete idiot laying out here by yourself." She glared down at Rachel and dropped her bottom lip as a sign of pity. "What the Hell are you doing anyway?"_

"_Oh, there's a very good reason for it, of course, and I'll tell you on one condition." Rachel replied, leaning back as she set her hands down on the grass behind her. _

_Santana raised an eyebrow in question._

_Rachel stared up at Santana looking her straight in the eye. "Lay here with me."_

_Santana burst out laughing. "And what makes you think I'm going to lay out here with you Dwarf? I wouldn't be caught dead with you in general, let alone doing something so ridiculous."_

"_Just lay down Santana." Rachel closed her eyes and leaned back until she was once again resting on her back on the field. _

_Santana looked down at the girl, and wondered why she seemed so calm and collected. No-one ever acted that way around her anymore. She had become cold and harsh these last couple of years, and other than Brittany, most stayed out of her way. But, here was Rachel asking her to stay regardless of the tormenting Santana threw her way - it appeared the girl was not uneasy at all. Santana didn't understand it. Her mind a mess from the previous bumps in her night, Santana drew her lip into her mouth and looked over her shoulder and around the field, her head and her heart battling each other in response to Rachel's request._

_Rachel opened her eyes to see the Latina looking around her. "School finished three hours ago…it's Friday…there's no-one here but us, Santana. No-one will see you."_

_Santana quickly let go of her lip and looked back at Rachel. She sighed heavily and dropped her bag on the grass next to Rachel's. "Fine, whatever…I need a rest anyway, but tell anyone about this and you're dead."_

_Rachel smiled and closed her eyes again. "Secret's safe with me."_

_Santana lay down on her back a foot away from Rachel's side._

"_Now, close your eyes." Rachel said._

_Santana shot up into a sitting position. "Uh uh, no way. I am sooo…"_

_Rachel rolled on her side and looked up to Santana. "Oh, come on. I want to show you something. Please?"_

_Santana glared at Rachel, and Rachel glared back. It was only for a few seconds, but Santana felt like it had been hours before the gaze broke. No-one ever looked her in the eye like this. No-one ever met her attitude with their own in return like this. No-one got into her head like this. Rachel lay down once again and without another word, Santana followed, closing her eyes on the way down. She was confused at what she was feeling, and so she gave in._

_Her aching body loved the rest it was being given instantly, and her tense muscles slowly began to relax. The two girls lay like that for a long time before one of them spoke._

"_Open your eyes, Santana." Rachel almost whispered._

_Santana was so lost in her mind, that she had almost forgotten where she was, but when she heard Rachel's voice, she slowly opened her eyes, and as soon as she did, her jaw dropped and she sucked in a quick breath. Above her were a million stars floating in a navy sky. Her whole view was filled with little glowing balls of light. She'd never stopped to see the sky like this. It was beautiful._

"_Whenever I need to get away and think, I come here. It's just far enough from town that you can see the stars clearly. Somehow, everything feels so much better when I'm laying here like this. I guess…it's all a matter of perspective…" Santana had let her head fall to the side to look at Rachel, and was met with warm brown eyes looking back at her. "..and so beautiful." Rachel drew her lip into her mouth slowly, biting down on it, and Santana continued to watch her, struggling with the fact that she'd never felt so connected to someone like this before. She didn't know what was going on, but something was._

Santana didn't let herself continue the memory further than that – she didn't want to dwell on the fact that that soon after that moment, a couple of kids had run onto the field in chase of their dog. Santana had snapped out of her reverie in an instant and had run off, making sure to continue to ignore or torment the girl ever since so as to never allow anyone in like that again. Ever since Jesenia's death, she had promised herself never to feel anything again, and so, she had grown to hate Rachel, because she knew that somehow, she wasn't exactly sure why, Rachel was able to get through to her like no-one else could. Rachel made her feel, and she hated what that meant.

So here she lay under the skylight in her room, looking up at the stars above her, fighting with herself again: heart or head. She couldn't lie to herself any more…there was something about Rachel Berry, there always had been…


	14. One Step Forward

Author's Note: As promised, I am trying to update this regularly, but I must tell you that I do start back studying come Monday, and so the updates from here on out might not be as regular as they have been the past few weeks. That said, I really am enjoying writing this story (having so much fun with it), so I highly doubt that I will be able to resist the late night every so often adding to it. I hope you like it, and please, review if you have a moment – I love reading what everyone thinks! 

Disclaimer: I do not own or have any affiliation (other than being a devout viewer of the show) with the TV series 'Glee'.

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><p><strong>CHAPTER 14: ONE STEP FORWARD<strong>…

It had been a little over an hour since their clash in the hallway. Santana had come down the stairs to find a bowl of pasta covered in wrap on the kitchen counter with a note lying next to it that read: 'Santana. Do you ever shop? Seriously, I cannot possibly work in such appalling conditions. This is all I managed to find. It's terrible. Don't eat it. I'll be on the couch. –R.' Santana smiled widely and shook her head. She put the plate in the microwave, and made her way out into the hallway, peeping around the corner and into the lounge room. Rachel was indeed on the couch, and asleep, lying on her stomach, with her arm dangling off the side. Her hair was a tangled mess, covering her face and every time she breathed a few strands would fly out with the puff of air. Santana chewed on her lip, as she wandered into the room. She stepped quietly around Rachel, avoiding her arm, and reached for the blanket that lay on the opposite end of the couch with the intention of covering her.

*Beeeeeeep*, the microwave chimed loudly from the kitchen. Rachel jolted upright at the sound. Santana jumped at the sudden movement and fell back awkwardly onto the couch, her legs never really catching up and left on the floor, while her head fell onto Rachel's lap. Both girls froze for a moment. Rachel had instinctively shot out her hand and grabbed Santana's arm, so as to not let her fall all the way onto the floor. Santana had taken Rachel's shirt with her opposite hand, which had resulted in pulling it down to reveal the singer's bare shoulder. Santana stared at Rachel's collarbone while Rachel's focus lay on the Latina's lips.

"Uhh…right, so, uh…hi…" The Latina said lamely, tearing her gaze from Rachel's shoulder and moving to sit up on the couch. "…I mean, like…sorry." She finished as she got herself together and looked over to Rachel. She managed to look into Rachel's eyes for a split second, before they darted away on their own accord, to trail down Rachel's neck and shoulder once more before resting on her own hands in her lap. She watched her fingers rubbing hard against each other and tugging at the tips of her nails every now and then. It was something she'd always done as a child, a sign of nervousness, but she had figured she'd grown out of it as she hadn't done it for years.

"It's ok." Rachel said simply, as she pulled her shirt back onto her shoulder. Rachel had noticed the way Santana had looked at the bare skin there and she'd felt a rush of something within her, when she'd caught her doing so. She'd licked her lips and couldn't help but stare at Santana's, remembering a time many years before when she had felt a similar rush, as they'd shared a brief moment together on the school's football field under the stars.

The girls sat in silence for a full minute before Santana spoke. "Rachel…" she began, the name seeming very foreign coming from her lips, before taking a deep breath in, "I'm sorry." She'd had time to think about her actions earlier and she felt extremely guilty at having become so violent with someone who had done nothing to deserve it.

Rachel was smart enough to realise that Santana was not just apologising for falling on top of her, and though she had so many words creeping to the tip of her tongue to say, she didn't want to push her luck. "It's ok." She repeated for the second time in less than a minute.

"No, it's not! I hit you…I, I…hurt you, and I'm so sorry for that. I wish I could take it back." Santana pleaded, closing her eyes as her eyebrows knitted together.

Rachel turned to face Santana a little more and moved to rest her hand on her thigh. "I know that you are going through a lot right now, especially considering the significance of this time of year and…" Rachel heard Santana swallow a lump in her throat and when she saw a single tear sliding down her cheek, she couldn't ignore it. "Hey…" Rachel lifted her hand from the Latina's thigh and slid her fingers gently under her chin. "Look at me." She told her.

Santana lifted her head and found two warm, brown and emotion-filled eyes looking back at her. Rachel swiped her finger across Santana's cheek, erasing the tear that streaked it. "When you want to let me in, I'm here Santana. …I always have been." Santana thought back again to the moment on the football field when Rachel had lain in wait of Santana 'just in case'. Yes, she'd always been there. But she really didn't understand why.

"Why, Rachel? After everything I've said…I've done…" Santana looked Rachel directly in the eye as she said this, remorse evident in the way she voiced her question.

"I care." Rachel tilted her head to the side, but continued to stare back into Santana's eyes. "I care about you, Santana, and…" Rachel sighed. "I forgive you."

Santana blinked as another tear fell from her lash, but before Rachel could catch it like she had the last, Santana had moved to stand up. "No…you can't…you shouldn't. I've done terrible things to you Rachel, terrible things, and you should never forgive anyone for torturing you like that." The Latina began pacing a line between the couch and the television. "You didn't deserve any of it. I was so mean." Santana had fallen into a rant as she paced back and forth. It wasn't long before the she'd moved into her native Spanish, but it was being spoken far too fast for Rachel to even try to keep up.

So, Rachel just sat and watched Santana pacing back and forth. As much as she wanted to comfort the girl, and tell her again that it was okay, she knew that Santana needed this…to let it all out. This was the most emotion Rachel had ever seen come from the Latina, a massive breakthrough, so she was not going to do anything to ruin it. She just sat, and waited.

After a full two minutes of Santana's very dramatic and exasperated outburst, she stopped, suddenly. She looked down into Rachel's eyes again, sighed heavily, before dropping her head and looking to the floor as she began chewing on her lip. Rachel stood up, taking both of Santana's hands in her own.

"Santana…everyone deals with struggles in their lives differently, and I have always understood that tormenting me was your way. And now, it seems, you've realised it too. The past is just that, the past, you shouldn't plague yourself now with it and, now…that…"

Rachel had slowed down toward the end of what she'd said before trailing off. With Santana now staring so fixedly into her eyes, and then at her lips, Rachel lost focus and forgot everything she was trying to say. She froze, as she felt Santana rub her thumb over her palm, sending jolts of electricity through her whole body.

"Santana…?" Rachel managed to say, as her breathing became uneven.

It took only that to snap Santana out it, and pull back. "Uh, I..I'm sorry..." As she moved to walk away, Rachel reached out and took her hand before she could go too far at all.

"I'm not." Rachel said without hesitation.

The two girls stood and stared again at each other for a long moment, before Santana took a deep breath in and closed her eyes. "Rachel…" she said on her breath out.

Rachel bit her lip as she turned and moved in closer to the Latina. "Santana…?" Rachel asked slowly as she stared at the lips before her.

Santana couldn't resist any longer. Closing the gap between them completely, she leant forward to take Rachel's top lip between her own, drawing it into her mouth gently as she drew a deep breath in through her nose. The kiss was incredibly gentle and passionate, albeit quick, and when Santana leaned back to break it, Rachel swayed forward, her eyes still closed and her head tilted back slightly, still lost in the moment. Santana grazed a finger gently over Rachel's forehead pushing back a strand of hair that had fallen across it.

Were they able to read each other's minds, they would realise that they were both thinking the very same thoughts. No kiss they had ever had with any boy outshined what they'd just shared. This was on a completely different level. Soft and gentle…just perfect.

Rachel swallowed hard and dragged her teeth over her bottom lip. "Well, that was…"

Rachel smiled and Santana couldn't help but do the same. "Mmmm…" was all that she managed to say.

At that moment, Rachel's cell that was laying on the coffee table behind her signalled a message, drawing both girls out of their dreamy state.

Santana looked toward the clock and then back to Rachel. "Uhhh…who on Earth is texting you at 2am?" She asked with an eyebrow raised.

Rachel had a pretty good idea. She guessed that it was her father's checking up on her, and she knew that telling Santana the reason as to why they were doing so would upset her. They had been very uneasy when Rachel had informed them (when Santana had passed out on the couch) that she was going to stay with the girl, knowing the Hell the cheerleader had caused their little girl over the years. But Rachel's father's had always respected their daughter's judgement, knowing that she had a good head on her shoulders and trusted her to make the right decisions for herself, and so even though they would have loved to forbid her from doing it, they agreed to let her stay with Santana, so long as they could check in every so often to make sure there wasn't any 'funny business', as her Aba had put it, going on.

"I, I don't..." Rachel began as she retrieved her phone, seeing that the message was indeed from her Dad. Rachel stared down at it, trying to work out what to say to Santana that wouldn't upset her.

"Rachel?" Santana prompted.

Rachel sighed. "It's my Dad. He's so overprotective sometimes."

A quick flash of confusion flickered across Santana's face as she wondered why he would be checking up on her this late, but it was soon replaced with understanding. Santana was thrown back into the same mindset she'd been in just moments before when she'd lost herself in her intense bilingual rant. "It's because you're with the bitch of a cheerleader that made your life a living Hell for years, isn't it?" Santana's face was now cold and hard.

Rachel stared back at the Latina, whose eyes had lost all signs of warmth. She stood up and walked over to the girl in hopes of comforting her like she had earlier, but as she reached out her hand to take Santana's, the girl brushed it off before taking Rachel's wrist roughly in her hand, clasping it tight.

"Don't. He's right. I am a bitch, always have been and always will be." Santana pushed Rachel's arm away firmly before marching off into the kitchen, leaving Rachel rubbing her wrist and wishing that she'd put her damn phone on silent!


	15. Confessions

Author's Note: It's been a long time, I know, and although I have had some justification for my lack of updates in that I've been trying to keep my head in my study, in all honestly, I have had quite a few bouts of time to myself and so really, haven't much of an excuse at all. I had been adding a few hundred words here and there, losing interest quickly, but after watching the newest dual-aired episodes of Glee last night (which were fantastic, by the way!), it re-sparked my interest in the characters and writing in general and I finished off another chapter. So, enjoy, and please, leave me some comments to spur me along? I'd seriously appreciate it.

Disclaimer: I do not own or have any affiliation (other than being a devout viewer of the show) with the TV series 'Glee'.

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><p><strong>CHAPTER 14: CONFESSIONS<strong>

Rachel had spent the half hour since Santana had left her in the living room going through ways in which to approach her again and when. One thing she had decided on without too much thought at all and that was that she was not leaving, and most definitely not giving up. With Santana having had physically hurt her twice that night, part of Rachel was wary of approaching her again, in fear of the Latina lashing out at her a third time... and another part of her was thinking about the way Santana's eyes looked in the past few hours – eyes usually dark and cold slowly filling with emotion. Tonight, Rachel had seen things ranging from regret, to anxiety, to lust in those eyes, and, having never even imagined Santana to be capable of showing anything other than disdain, didn't want to let it all slip away without giving her at least one more chance. That as it were, while Rachel was not going to completely condemn Santana for her violence, she was most definitely not going to excuse it, intending to make it clear that it is just not acceptable behaviour in any situation. She wanted to help, yes, but not if she was going to be continually bullied for it.

Rachel had always been a very forgiving person, and she'd put it down, long ago, to the fact that she was deeply sensitive and an emotional sponge, always feeling, in some way, the pain and struggle of those around her, no matter who they were and how they treated her. This personality trait, she had realised early on, caused her a great deal of pain, and so over the years, she had trained herself to keep her distance from those who refused her first offer of help or camaraderie. While this ultimately made her appear to be quite selfish and blasé to others externally, it tormented her horribly on the inside, but, she had grown so tired of repeatedly holding out her hand to help someone, only to have it bitten off time and time again. She had eventually decided that, for her own wellbeing and sanity, she had to make herself take a step back and just leave people alone should they reject her, however, to downright ignore anyone's pain was never something Rachel was capable of, and so she always offered support once, always, before swearing herself off altogether. It appeared though that no matter what she did, it fell negatively upon her in some way: she was either see as selfish, or annoyingly persistent – no-one ever really understood her…never took the time to even try.

However, with Santana, it had always been different. While the Latina had pushed her away for the first time many, many years ago, and while Rachel had tried to keep her distance in that time, somehow, the girls had always seemed to find themselves in a similar position again and again, and it wasn't initiated on Rachel's side. It was almost as if Santana tracked her down purposefully, with only the desire to fight her off in mind, like it was a game to her…an amusing challenge. Santana's bite had always been paired with a cryptic look in her eye; an unspoken dare for Rachel to try again, and Rachel couldn't help but fall into the trap.

It was that, the memory of the ribbons of emotion and subtle persuasion in Santana's eyes that finally pushed Rachel down the hall toward the Latina's bedroom. When she reached it, realising it was slightly ajar, Rachel softly whispered Santana's name out in question, afraid that anything too loud would alarm her and cause unnecessary added tension. However, the silence remained unbroken, and so, pushing at the door gently, Rachel entered the room.

Although she had not answered, Santana was indeed in the room, lying on the floor, the dim light from the skylight directly above her the only reprieve from the darkness.

Though the temptation to leave the silence untouched was great, Rachel shook her head and pressed her lips together, determined to say what she wanted and needed to while she could. She took a deep breath, and closed her eyes. "Santana…I need to say something." Rachel began, to which she heard a movement below. Rachel opened her eyes again to see Santana's head had turned towards her, though due to the shadows couldn't make out her features. Lips pressed together, she continued. "I know that you work hard to veil how you feel from others and that lately, that resolve may be deteriorating slightly and that it may shock you, but I need to make it clear that violence, of any kind, even…even if it be unintentional, is never okay. I told you I would never give up on you, but, y-you've lashed out at me twice tonight Santana, and I…I want to help but…"

Although she'd started out strong, she'd broken up toward the end, unable to stop her voice from shaking when her eyes had gradually adjusted to the weak light, and Santana's tear-stained face had come into clear view. Rachel had never seen someone look so broken.

"Ra-Rachel…I-I…" Santana let her head roll back centre and lifted her hand up to wipe the tears from her face with the sleeve of her shirt. She kept her arm raised, laid it over her face and took a deep breath in. "I'm so sorry Rachel, I am. It's not okay, I know it's not." Santana closed her eyes tight, scrunched up her face and squeezed her fists into balls before letting out a frustrated sigh. "God, why do I keep hurting you, when all I want to do i-…"

Rachel frowned and tilted her head to one side. She watched Santana closely, the Latina's eyes wide, and staring up at the stars, holding onto her bottom lip with her teeth. Rachel moved to sit next to Santana crossing her legs. "Hey…" she began, as she reached out to cover Santana's hand with her own atop her stomach. "What is it, Santana? What is it that you want?" Rachel asked softly.

Santana's heart was pounding and her breathing getting rapid, as adrenaline kicked in tenfold. '_Should I or shouldn't I? Truth or lie?'_ she thought to herself as she closed her eyes once more. '_It's now or never San_. Say it.' Santana pulled her hand away from her face, and slowly moved herself to sit up, mirroring Rachel. At the same time, she'd turned her hand up and taken Rachel's hand in her own, now resting together on her thigh. Santana stared down at their linked hands and began drawing slow circles over the tops of Rachel's. "I want…" Santana began, before looking up and directly into Rachel's eyes. "I want you."

Rachel's eyes widened a little as she stared into the Latina's face. She knew that such a thing would be hard for Santana to confess, and she could see the anxiety of it on every inch of her face – her eyes trying to focus, but flickering around. Rachel had known for years that Santana had felt something for her, or at least, that's what she'd told herself. Details…Rachel never missed a detail, and there were so many little things that Santana said or did over the years that caused her to believe that there was more to it than what she wanted to be seen. Even so, Santana's admission had definitely surprised her, Rachel smiled and caught her bottom lip between her teeth. "Y-you do?" she asked just to make sure that she hadn't been imagining things.

Santana let out a breath, only just realising that she had been holding one in. She closed her eyes, and nodded her head, pressing her lips together firmly. "I can't keep pretending any more Berry, I just can't. I hurt you…" Santana rolled Rachel's wrist over and dragged her fingers lightly over the redness she had left there "…and I…God, I'm so sorry Rachel." She looked up at Rachel's face in saying the last few words, a tear rolling down her cheek.

Rachel lifted her hand to Santana's face and traced the tears trail, wiping it and the tear away from her face. Her hand lingered, moving down along her jaw and coming to rest when fingers tangled in her hair. "I understand, Santana, I accept your apology and…" Rachel leaned forward and pressed her lips gently to Santana's. She felt Santana's hand slide around her neck, as she deepened the kiss before allowing Rachel to pull away. "I feel the same way." she finished.

Santana licked her lips and smiled. "Will you…lay with me? I mean, I- not in a suggestive way or anything just…" Santana sighed, as Rachel's mouth quirked into a smile.

"I understand, and of course I will." The girls looked into each others eyes for a long moment, smiling, before Rachel took Santana's hand in her own and lay down on her back on the floor. Santana soon followed. "Wow…what a gorgeous view!" Rachel whispered, looking up at the millions of stars above her.

Santana let her head fall to the side. The shadows bounced across Rachel's face and lit up her features beautifully. "Definitely.", she breathed in agreement, though she herself wasn't entirely referring to the skylight.


End file.
